The Sweet Science
by DeniseV
Summary: Frazier and Ali have got nothin' on the crew of Atlantis. Minor Sheppard and McKay slash, but Teyla, Ronon, Carson and Weir all get their shot.


_**ROUND ONE**_

"So, tell me about the Morlani."

"Backwoods…" Dr. Rodney McKay began, but the scratchiness evident in his voice stopped him short as his comment ended in a cough.

"What Rodney means, Elizabeth, is that the Morlani are simple folk," Lieutenant Colonel John Sheppard offered in clarification. McKay coughed some more, though he easily found time during all of that hacking to give John's response the respect it was due by waving it away with the back of his hand.

"They are farmers, Dr. Weir. I believe that we will find them willing and equitable trading partners," Teyla Emmagen suggested.

"Yes, because one can never get enough okra," McKay explained sarcastically as he coughed once again. He ended the round of coughing with a clearly audible, "Ugh."

"You don't sound very good, Rodney," Elizabeth Weir said with a frown.

"It seems Rodney has managed to catch himself _'another'_ cold," Altantis' chief medical officer Carson Beckett interjected.

Rodney pointed at Carson and replied with a harsh-sounding though quiet, "What he said." And then he coughed again. He closed his eyes wearily, crossed his arms on the table and rested his head on them.

"Rodney, do you want to retire to your quarters?" Elizabeth asked.

McKay raised his hand, waved it weakly and eked out a muffled, "No. Proceed," but he kept his head pillowed on his arms. Beckett shook his head and let out a slight 'tsk'.

Rodney lifted his head and answered Beckett with, "I'll sleep next." Then he lowered his head once more.

"Aye, you will," the CMO warned.

"Play nice, boys," Sheppard chided. He knew that Rodney hadn't felt well during the last day or so of their stay with the Morlani. In fact, _'everyone'_ knew that Rodney wasn't feeling well, since it was McKay's way to assure that all present share his pain whenever possible. The colonel was willing to give the physicist extra credit, though, for sticking with the team even after he had determined that there was absolutely nothing of technological, scientific or even significant cultural value to be gained for the Atlantis contingent. There wasn't even anything scenic about the place. A change of pace from all of the water and hard surface that was Atlantis was always appealing; this place didn't even have that to make it interesting. Just flat boring farmland.

But there was okra. Lots and lots of okra, or at least an otherworldly version of it, as well as a few other vegetables similar to some found on Earth. Of course, Rodney being the 'big' fan of vegetables that he was, found the mission completely lacking in every conceivable way. He'd been consumed enough in complaining about getting sick, though, that he hadn't found his opportunity to actually label the trip a failure, save the condemnation of the defenseless vegetables.

McKay just coughed in response to Sheppard's friendly ribbing.

"We'll put together a list for trade. Colonel, your team can return in a day or so with an offer," Elizabeth instructed.

McKay lifted his head and frowned, blinked bleary eyes and was about to speak, but was interrupted by Weir.

"I'm sure the colonel can handle this without you, Rodney," Elizabeth suggested.

"But…" Rodney started. That wasn't quite what he was looking for, but once again he was cut off.

"McKay, you're sick. You should go with Carson to see if he can give you anything to help and then sleep," John Sheppard recommended.

Rodney looked at everyone staring back at him. It was obvious that he would face an uphill battle trying to convince Weir and Sheppard to postpone the return trip for a while. The Morlani and their village seemed more than tame, yet the sense of foreboding told him that he should fight for the postponement. But they were simple farmers, and Sheppard and he had done a thorough evaluation. Still, Rodney hated the idea of his team going off world without him.

"Rodney?" McKay was oblivious to the person calling his name as he continued to worry about the return mission. "Rodney?" Carson asked again. "Did you hear what the colonel said?

"Oh. Um, yes," he agreed reluctantly. "Fine," he added, though he said it with distaste. The mere act of adding that last word seemed to draw out the next cough from his abused body.

"Good. Teyla, could you stay and help me put together a list of trading goods?" Elizabeth asked.

"Of course," the Athosian said, nodding her head in consent.

"Thank you, everyone. Dismissed," Weir said as the meeting adjourned.

Sheppard placed his hand on Rodney's back. "You should head out with Beckett," the colonel said as he watched the CMO waiting patiently for his patient.

Rodney sighed. His eyes were red and watery, mostly from his tired state but also from the persistent, pounding cough, and he bore a slight flush over the most evident symptom from this latest illness: frustration. He blinked and then wiped the wetness away with both hands. He stood and said, "Right. Let's get this over with."

"I love spending time with you, too, Rodney," Carson said as he watched McKay head out the door. Sheppard frowned.

"Go easy on him, Carson," he said softly so that Rodney would not overhear.

Beckett smiled sadly. "Aye. Rodney's had it rough lately."

"Lately?" John asked as he and Carson trailed behind the physicist on their way toward the infirmary. "He hasn't had all that many healthy days since we got him back."

Carson Beckett frowned at the euphemism. Rodney had nearly died in that sunken puddle jumper. Griffin had been lost. Carson laughed at himself; even he was calling events what they were not. Griffin died, he wasn't lost. And Rodney could have died, and very nearly did. Beckett realized that so many staff and military had died since they'd arrived in the Pegasus galaxy – it was no wonder that so many of those still here wanted to deny that truth. They were only human, after all, and it was human nature to protect oneself in whatever way necessary; if the creative use of language helped some, Carson Beckett would not deny the need. But the betting man in him had already made arrangements for more staff to help out Kate Heightmeyer when the denial became more than mere humans could handle.

"Do you think these illnesses are all related to the damage his lungs suffered?"

While waiting and no doubt working like crazy for his rescue, Rodney's exposure to all of that water and frigid temperatures had resulted in hypothermia, and then pneumonia. Since then, McKay had been overly susceptible, it seemed, to every bug or virus, whether alien or Earth-based. His lungs had not been given the proper time to heal from his ordeal let alone the pneumonia before he would pick up something else that would opportunistically settle there and wreak more havoc. And the physicist's mental state hadn't been helped much, either.

"Probably. But mostly I don't think he's been getting enough rest. It would be nice if he could take a break. He deserves it." Carson paused meaningfully. "He's earned it."

"I know. But shit does happen here in the Pegasus galaxy," John said with candor.

"Indeed it does. Well, since he won't be joining you back on the Morlani home world, maybe I can throw my weight around some and take him off duty."

"He won't like that, Doc," John said as he eyed Carson sympathetically. Sheppard knew what it was like to cross Dr. Rodney McKay.

"Colonel, I haven't been Rodney's favorite person for weeks now. Seems he's projecting all of his frustrations and disappointment my way."

"Not all of them," John said with a wince.

Carson laughed. "I've no doubt you've received a bruise or two along the way. It's a good thing we both have broad shoulders and good natures."

"And military-issue body armor," Sheppard added with a slight grin.

"Right," Carson agreed.

Sheppard and Beckett reached the infirmary and found McKay lying on his side on an examination bed.

"Don't get too comfortable, Rodney. You won't be staying here," the physician added as he washed his hands.

"I know," Rodney said tiredly.

"I'll catch you later," John said as he patted McKay's calf and pointed to the door. "I've got newbies and supplies freshly arrived on the Daedalus."

"Go," Rodney instructed as he waved Sheppard away. John smiled and shook his head sadly as he left.

Rodney dozed as he waited for Carson. What he wouldn't give for a week in his own bed back home. A light tap on his shoulder told him that his nap was over too soon. How was it that every time he had the time or inclination to sleep, medical _'science'_ always worked against him?

"Now then, let's have a look. Can you sit up a little?" Carson asked. He waited as Rodney leaned back against the now raised bed.

Beckett finished his exam quickly, knowing exactly what he would find. Rodney had managed to go the entire time without coughing, save for when Carson had requested it while listening to his lung sounds through the stethoscope. The Scot saw that as a good sign.

"Well, Rodney, you've got a doozy of a cold, but luckily that's all it is." Rodney rolled his eyes and miraculously refrained from providing a verbal retort, though Carson didn't need to hear it to know what his friend was thinking. "Take this." Beckett handed him a pill and a cup of water. It was a testament to how truly out of it Rodney McKay was that he didn't question the directive.

"It's a sedative." Rodney's eyes popped open wide, the beginnings of a protest lurking in the expressive face. "Save your energy. I've more to say." Carson handed Rodney three bottles. "Take one of these," he shook the bottle of pills, "every six hours. If you manage to sleep more than six hours, that would be great, just take the pill when you wake up." Rodney nodded his understanding. "This is cough medicine," he held up the first of two bottles of liquid. "Take two teaspoons just before bedtime, which," he looked at his watch, "is in about ten minutes for you." Rodney rolled his eyes once more but he still didn't speak. "And this is a balm for your sore throat." Rodney's eyes lit up. "It's an Athosian mixture that I've had good success with. I've re-formulated it to take out the citrus, or rather, the citrus-like fruit."

Atlantis' top scientist smiled, knowing that Atlantis' chief physician had done all of that work just for him; he wasn't aware of anyone else on the expedition who was citrus intolerant. Though he reveled in giving Carson a hard time, McKay knew he had a true and good friend in Dr. Carson Beckett.

"Now, for my favorite part," he started, and then whispered, though he still voiced it loud enough for Rodney to hear, "because I'm the galaxy's biggest masochist." He looked McKay in the eye and said, "You are confined to your quarters for the next three days."

"Three days!" Rodney yelled, followed by a deep and obviously painful cough. Talking aggravated the cough, which was why Rodney had been fairly silent. Up until now.

"Carson, I…"

"Don't!" Beckett started, the loudness and firm demeanor showing his patient that he meant business. "Don't waste your breath. You're going to need it." McKay folded his arms across his chest and pouted. "The colonel's not here so you may as well cut that out." Rodney didn't. Though the pouting did work best on Sheppard, it seemed the physicist would still give it a whirl, even though Carson seemed irritatingly immune to it. Beckett had worked the ropes a bit in his life, though he'd rarely come up against an opponent with as much heart as his Canadian friend. "I'm sorry, Rodney, but you have got to give your body a chance to recover from this."

"Three days?" Rodney pleaded. A tickle morphed into a cough.

"As your doctor and your friend, I have to caution you that this is your final chance to get over these illnesses once and for all. If you cannot get beyond all of these recurrences, I'm going to recommend that you go back to Earth for an extended R&R."

"You wouldn't," Rodney challenged, thinking back to his own thoughts just moments earlier. 'Be careful what you wish for', he thought wryly. He frowned as he recognized the resolve in Beckett's demeanor. "Would you?"

"I would and I will. But I don't believe I'll have to, will I?"

Carson's gaze held firm, and he knew the moment that he'd won Rodney's agreement. His body language projected it far sooner than his voice, which finally croaked, "No, you won't."

"Smart man," Carson joked as he patted McKay's hand.

"No kidding," Rodney answered dejectedly.

"Come on. Up with you. The sooner you're in bed, the sooner you'll stop talking."

"Ha, ha," Rodney countered lightly, leading to another round of coughing. Carson waited until Rodney had caught his breath and then helped his friend to his quarters.

**_ROUND ONE … TO CARSON BECKETT_**

****

_**ROUND TWO **_

Sheppard entered the room as stealthily as possible in hopes of not disturbing the sleeping scientist. He looked over to the bed and saw Rodney, eyes closed, his upper body propped up on pillows. The cough must have settled into McKay's lungs pretty fast if he was forced to sleep in that uncomfortable position.

He turned and removed his side arm and then took off his jacket, placing it over the back of a chair. When he turned to head to the bathroom, he spotted slits of blue peeking out from tired eyes. He walked in Rodney's direction and sat on the edge of the bed. McKay scooched over to make room.

"What're you doing awake?" John asked as he leaned in for a kiss.

Rodney offered his cheek and said, "Don't. Don't want you to get sick."

"I'm pretty sure you've contaminated me by now," John said as he leaned back. He placed his hand on McKay's forehead and pushed away sweaty, messy hair. "You're warm."

Rodney sighed deeply, ignoring the comment. "Any new recruits worth keeping?" he scratched out. He coughed to clear his throat and then eked, "Ow."

"A few. Did Carson give you anything for your throat?"

"Yeah. Over there." He pointed to the desk. "Can you get me a glass of water?" he asked tiredly.

"Sure," John answered, rubbing Rodney's chest affectionately. "Did you sleep at all?" he asked as he headed to the sink.

"A few hours," Rodney answered as he pulled a pillow from behind him and eased back, resting the extra pillow on his legs. He closed his eyes and breathed, trying to ignore the fact that he felt like he was buried under a ton of dirt, or billions of gallons of water, every time he breathed. And if anyone knew what that felt like, or at least had experienced how it felt to know that it could have happened at any moment, it was Rodney McKay.

"Water first?"

Rodney opened his eyes and smiled. He'd dozed a little – John was in his t-shirt and boxers, the minty scent of toothpaste hovering in the air. It was a most pleasant way to awaken from a nap.

"Water," Rodney answered, sitting up. He drank carefully, his throat sore from all that coughing. "Keep that close," he directed, handing John the half empty water glass. He took the Athosian concoction and then exchanged the bottle and the spoon for the glass. He finished the water, remembering that the home-made medicinal had a bit of a bite. John took the glass and Rodney cleared his throat before saying, "Thanks."

John grinned. "Be right back."

Rodney lay on his side watching Sheppard ready himself for bed. They had been a couple for several months, since just before that ill-fated test flight. Things had changed so much between the two of them this year. The disaster that occurred on Doranda had nearly killed their friendship. McKay had never worked so hard to repair anything in his life; no physics problem or piece of Ancient equipment had been handled with as much care, or given as much concentrated attention as he had put into his efforts to get back into Lieutenant Colonel John Sheppard's good graces.

Though the effort to earn John's trust back had been hard – McKay hadn't truly realized how stubborn Sheppard could be – the surprisingly unexpected reward for Rodney had been more than he ever dreamed that it could be. The fact that he cared for Atlantis' military leader was never in doubt; he had missed their camaraderie desperately during the time that the colonel had shut him out. To have a friendship so dear and to have it torn from him so fast, the fault nearly all his own - losing that had felt like he'd lost a limb, it hurt so bad. The realization that he loved the man – that he was in love with him – and that those feelings were reciprocated…his wildest dreams never showcased that scenario. They never could, because Rodney McKay was too much of a realist, some might say too much of a fatalist, to dream this. To dream this was to get exactly what you ever wanted in life. McKay had never learned to think that way.

Rodney felt the bed shift and then felt strong warm arms engulf him, positioning him against the comfort of the familiar body. He opened his eyes once more, surprised that he'd slipped towards sleep once again, to find his head lying in the crook of John's neck, his cheek resting comfortably on John's chest.

"This can't be comfortable for you," Rodney slurred quietly into Sheppard's shirt, though he made no effort to move from his new bed.

"It's fine," John assured as he squeezed Rodney lovingly.

"I'm all hot and…yucky," Rodney insisted.

"You're definitely hot," John agreed, wiggling his eyebrows as he leaned in and kissed Rodney's temple. "And I've felt you yuckier than this."

Rodney smirked. "The Groucho impersonation was for your own benefit?" the physicist asked, not able to see the mimicking, but knowing full well that it had happened: he knew his colonel well.

"Made you laugh," John answered, squeezing his precious package once again.

"Yes you did," McKay said affectionately as he snuggled in closer.

Sheppard smiled as he lay quietly with his sick lover. He rubbed and then squeezed Rodney's arm, alternating the action in repetitive, nervous fashion. It reminded McKay of the caged animals at the zoo, the ones who had not managed to adapt to their new, allegedly _'natural'_ surroundings. It was sad to see that happen to an animal, the pacing from one spot to the next, as though one end or the other of that loop might one day open up to freedom. It was hard to watch such grand animals in such a distressed and far from natural state. It was worrisome to think that John was acting in the same manner.

"What's wrong?" he asked, straining his neck to catch a glimpse of John's face.

"Nothing," Sheppard responded, placing his hand on McKay's head and forcing it back down. "Go to sleep."

"Well, I can't sleep now, can I?" Rodney asked in typical McKay fashion. Actually, it wasn't really typical because typical was more irritated, more sarcastic. This retort was really more angry. And John knew why.

"Rodney…" John started, but he felt Rodney moving, which was not what he wanted. Sheppard lost this fight, because a determined McKay, even a determined, sick McKay, was as hard to keep down as the most determined pugilist.

Rodney leaned on his arm as he looked at John. "Something's wrong," he stated adamantly. John looked away, but Rodney was having none of that. "Just tell me. We don't do this, right? What is it?"

"Beckett has officially grounded you," he said, looking at Rodney sympathetically.

McKay's eyes grew a little larger, and a slight gasp immediately caused a round of coughing. John just watched, knowing McKay well enough that comfort was the last thing Rodney would want. His friend needed a little time to absorb the news, his brain taking its normal path to process information, be it good or bad, scientific or personal. Rodney McKay was easy to read, for those who knew him well. John knew the reaction he would receive; it was one of his least favorite reactions to get from his favorite scientist.

"That's not too surprising, I guess," he said resignedly. He lay back down with a heavy sigh, as though he'd been on the losing end of a TKO.

"No. But it's probably a good time for it to happen. We've got some work with the Morlani. It'll be an easy gig, and Teyla, Ronon and I will be forced into all kinds of dull stuff with them over the next week. Well, Teyla likes that meet and greet stuff. You can rest up. All you have to do is worry about how bored we'll both be," he smiled and kissed the head of the soon to be asleep scientist. He grimaced silently as he realized that Rodney had been right about the 'yucky'.

Sheppard's easy demeanor and quiet voice were working well with all of Carson's medicines and Rodney's already tired state to lull McKay to sleep. He should answer John, he knew, and there was something important that he had to tell him.

He'd remember to tell him in the morning.

**_ROUND TWO … TO JOHN SHEPPARD_**

****

_**ROUND THREE** _

"Your lungs sound better," Carson said. Rodney didn't answer. "It's good progress, Rodney. I'd like you to stay in your quarters…"

"Carson!" McKay demanded.

"They're not officially overdue," Beckett insisted. "What do you think you'll be able to do anyway?" the physician asked.

"I can talk Elizabeth into letting me go there to see how things are going."

"All by yourself?"

"Well…"

"If Elizabeth thinks there's trouble, she won't let you go alone."

"Fine. Then I'll go with Lorne's team," Rodney suggested defiantly.

"And how will that look to our new trading partners if there truly is nothing wrong?"

"Carson," Rodney said with a hint of a whine and a whole lot of frustration. "The colonel's been checking in a couple of times a day."

"Yes," Carson replied, 'and a bad precedent that was', he thought to himself. He would need to have a chat with Sheppard upon his return, because handling Rodney when he was like this was no fun. "But he's only expected to check in once a day, and that's only if there's progress to report. That was the pattern the first couple of days. You know how dull it can be waiting around for the negotiations."

McKay looked at Beckett with worried eyes. He winced a little as he realized he was probably sounding pretty desperate.

"I guess he has been bored," Rodney grudgingly admitted.

"As have you."

"He said this would happen," McKay commented quietly.

"What's that?" Carson asked, more interested in going over the chief scientist's chart at the moment.

"Oh. Nothing. I guess, um, they're probably not bored anymore, hm?" Rodney asked, looking for reassurance.

"I'm sure that's it."

"And just because he's…they're not bored doesn't mean that they're in trouble," he stated, trying desperately to convince himself that what he was saying was true.

Dr. Carson Beckett looked up from the chart and sighed. "Worrying about it won't help them and will only have a deleterious impact on you." Beckett knew that this would be a hard fought fight, one that in the end, if things had indeed turned for the worse for Sheppard's team, he would lose. "Rodney, please go back to your quarters. I won't be releasing you to a limited schedule until tomorrow at the earliest, but that's only if I continue to see the same level of improvement." McKay was looking toward the exit and not listening to the chief medical officer. It was as though Rodney's wishing that he could see John walk through that door could make it so. Carson shook Rodney's arm. "Are you hearing what I'm saying?"

McKay looked back. "Sorry. Yes. Rest," he said, followed by a brief pause. "Are we done?" he asked quickly, not even trying to hide the fact that he didn't want to be there any longer.

"Rodney, you are going to your quarters," Beckett ordered.

"I am going to my quarters, Carson. I'm not six years old."

"It's nigh hard to tell sometimes." They stared each other down for several moments. Carson finally gave in. "Leave."

And Rodney was gone.

**_ROUND THREE … TO RODNEY MCKAY_**

****

_**ROUND FOUR**_

"Well, this is a fine mess you've gotten us into."

"What's that?" Ronon asked.

"Never mind," Sheppard said as he banged his head back against the wall. The 'wall' of their prison was a hodge-podge of dirt and hand-made brick and other natural materials; pieces crumbled into his shirt collar and down his neck. "Shit."

"Ronon had assured me that he would not," Teyla Emmagen said, emphasizing the word _'not'_ and glaring at her large teammate as she said it, "cause any difficulty. I feel that it is my fault…"

"Don't apologize. He was feeling you up!" Ronon Dex glowered.

"No _'he'_ wasn't," the colonel and the Athosian said together, the tone, inflection and irritation sounding like beautiful harmony. John looked to Teyla, cocked his head and smiled.

Teyla turned to Ronon. "You believe that every people with whom we come in contact are your enemy," she began.

"I'm usually proven right."

"This can't work, Ronon," Sheppard admonished. "We were on good terms with these people until you assaulted Tursi's, um…" Ronon waited for Sheppard to continue, his own eyebrow raised now.

"You know," John insisted.

"Wife," Ronon finished for him.

"Yeah, I still can't believe that he married such an, uh, well…" John hesitated.

"Ugly woman," Ronon finished again. Teyla rolled her eyes and then looked to Sheppard as if to say, 'You are not helping'.

"Okay," John conceded the silent admonishment from Teyla. "This isn't getting us anywhere."

"I think I have a justifiable defense. Could either of you tell that she was female?" the Satedan demanded.

Teyla averted her eyes while Sheppard replied, "I don't think it matters. I'm pretty sure an assault charge would stick, based on where you had your hands, male, female or…whatever."

Ronon simply growled in reply.

"I believe the Morlani to be fair, Colonel Sheppard. It is possible that they will listen to the explanation that Ronon provides and simply ask him to leave."

"Yeah, because that's usually the way our luck goes," John answered sarcastically. "Shit, now I'm channeling McKay." He looked at Ronon. "You realize that I have to deal with Rodney when we get back?" Sheppard asked pointedly.

"Don't look at me. You made that bed."

"That's it!" Sheppard said, jumping to his feet. "Look," he said, looking up at his larger teammate, "I left Rodney behind to-get-better," he continued, repeatedly pressing his finger into Ronon's chest to emphasize his point. Ronon looked down at him indulgently. "Do you understand that? Hours before we didn't check in he was already going to begin forgetting Carson's orders. I may have 'made my bed'," Sheppard agreed, using his fingers to quote in the air, "but I also have been orchestrating a way to get him better, which benefits us all, as I am sure you are aware. So get your head out of your ass and start acting like a human being." Teyla and Ronon both stared at him, slight grins adorning their faces. "You know what I mean."

"Ronon understands, do you not?" Teyla asked, raising an eyebrow Dex's way.

The returned 'hmph' was taken as a yes by all imprisoned.

"God damn it!" Sheppard yelled in frustration. "I've been in contact with Atlantis more than regularly because I knew that it would keep him calm," he explained. His teammates looked at him skeptically. "Okay. Calmer. A calmer McKay equals a more rested McKay. A more rested McKay means he's in better shape to fight off these lung problems once and for all. And a better McKay does what?" Sheppard looked straight at Ronon for the answer.

"Benefits us all," Dex grumbled.

"Exactly!" Sheppard returned, shooting one index finger at Ronon and placing his other one on his nose. "He wouldn't have anything else to do, being benched and all, but sleep." He turned to Ronon. "You are so on my shit list."

"I get it," Ronon replied.

"It's about damn time. Crap," he said, looking at his watch. "We've been in here for ten hours."

"Colonel," Teyla interrupted. John looked toward her and then followed her eyes to the door. Tursi, the leader of the Morlani, could be seen through the tiny window on the large wooden door. They heard the thick wood being removed that was keeping them inside the small room. The door opened and Tursi entered.

"I apologize, Colonel. We have been…discussing the situation," he said, as though all of the Morlani elders were not in agreement on how to proceed. That could be good…or very, very bad. The two guards accompanying the leader seemed to indicate the latter.

"Yeah. So have we," Sheppard responded.

"Yes, I did hear some of your conversation. I did not mean to listen in, but you were somewhat agitated as you spoke. Your teammate McKay became ill on his last visit here?"

"Well, he didn't…" the colonel began.

"Yes," Teyla interrupted. "He developed a cough that settled in his chest. Our chief physician would not allow him to return with us."

"I am very sorry to hear that. I had assumed that one so brilliant could not be spared for such routine goings on."

"I hope you haven't been offended by Dr. McKay's absence," John said as he stepped closer to Tursi. "He wanted to come." John hoped that his nose hadn't grown too much with that lie. Rodney may have wanted to be there because his team was there, but he also knew that McKay had no real desire to return to the Land of the Okra.

"Some of my people did express concern over Dr. McKay's absence, but your explanation certainly satisfies," the leader assured.

"Good. So, what about our other problem?" Sheppard asked as he indicated Ronon Dex with a tilt of his head in the direction of Ronon's towering presence.

"Yes. We are willing to allow Mr. Dex to leave."

John sensed a 'but' coming. "That's great," the colonel said.

"We will require that he participate in one of our standard rituals for those who have wronged a member of our community."

John looked at Ronon. Ronon's look of 'No way' was equaled by Sheppard's 'You'll do it and you'll like it!' John conceded silently that he would need to know more about this ritual before agreeing to subject Ronon to it, though there was little short of a severe beating or death that he wouldn't agree to at this point. Sheppard's ass was already grass with one Canadian physicist. He needed to get this show over with.

"What does this ritual entail?" Teyla asked for them all.

"It is simple, really. Most who are asked to perform do not like it, but they do manage to get through it. Your Mr. Dex does have the added benefit of being able to leave when he is finished.

"Perform?" John asked, grimacing slightly at the implications. He heard the low, sustained growl behind him.

"Yes. We have a dance and a song of penance that Mr. Dex will be taught and will need to perform before the victim. At the end, the victim will accept the offered apology with a kiss." The growl grew louder.

"A dance?" Sheppard asked, looking back at Ronon and knowing, deep down, that the former Runner had never 'danced' in his life.

"And a song," Tursi said. "It is not very hard to learn, for the willing."

"I'm sure. And the kiss? This would be a kiss for?" the colonel asked, closing his eyes, as he knew the answer.

"My wife, of course."

"Of course. A quick peck on the cheek?"

"Colonel, surely a true, profound apology would require something more substantial."

Sheppard leaned closer to Tursi and asked under his breath, "Lips?"

Tursi responded, equally softly, "Feet."

John turned back to Ronon to find the Satedan standing just behind him, arms folded in defiance. He grabbed a heavily muscled arm to lead Dex to the far corner. The brick wall that Ronon was impersonating refused to move until Sheppard uttered the order. They huddled with Teyla in the farthest corner from where Tursi and the two guards stood waiting.

"Not gonna happen," Ronon said plainly.

"Oh, it's gonna happen," Sheppard insisted. "You'll be like Muhammed Ali. 'Float like a butterfly'?"

"Mo-what?" Ronon asked, confused.

"Never mind. It's gonna happen, that's it."

"It won't. I'll settle for escaping when they put me in their prison." Sheppard glared at him and then returned to Tursi's side.

"So, what happens if he doesn't do the song and dance?"

"And kiss."

"Yeah, and that," Sheppard agreed, the thought of watching the ritual making him feel a little queasy.

"That is not really an option, Colonel Sheppard."

"How's that exactly," John asked, looking at Ronon as though killing his team member himself was a far more appealing option.

"Mr. Dex will be confined until he does agree to perform for my wife."

'Did he have to phrase it that way?' Sheppard thought.

"I'll take my chances in confinement," Ronon bellowed.

"Then you will die there. The facility is impenetrable. Those who have chosen that course have either died or finally agreed to perform."

Sheppard watched Ronon eye their current prison. He could see in the look in Dex's eyes that the man was underestimating his captors.

The colonel turned back to Tursi. "As you can see, Ronon is a formidable man."

"The facility where he will be housed is enclosed underground. No natural light. Water and food will be provided to you. A bucket will function as his," he paused as he groped for the right word, "facilities. That will be removed and exchanged daily." Another pause. "At least they try to do it daily."

John turned to look at Ronon again. The Satedan was defiant.

"I'll take my chances," he insisted once again.

Sheppard shook his head and turned back to Tursi. "Okay. Then I think we're done." He looked to Teyla. "Ronon seems to have made his bed," he said, throwing the familiar words back at the newest member of his team, and choosing to ignore the large man as he growled one last time. "We're outta here." He headed for the door.

"I am afraid that you misunderstood. Mr. Dex will be confined. But you will not be allowed back through the Stargate."

"Maybe I misunderstood," Sheppard drawled snidely, "because you failed to mention anything about that little detail."

Tursi looked only slightly abashed when he said, "We had hoped that we would not have to mention it, as you can well imagine."

"Ronon, I am ordering you to do this," John tried. It was worth a try.

Ronon Dex looked down to his team leader. John and Teyla watched with no way of knowing what was going through the Satedan's head. Re-considering his decision didn't appear to be an option; Ronon was not the type to be easily swayed, in decision or action.

"Describe to me the ritual," Ronon replied.

"Yes!" Sheppard said under his breath, looking like a football player who had just scored a touchdown, pumping his arm for emphasis.

"I haven't agreed," Ronon replied.

"You will," Teyla advised with a knowingly raised eyebrow.

**_ROUND FOUR … TO TEYLA EMMAGEN_**

****

_**ROUND FIVE**_

Rodney McKay was waiting for them as they returned through the Stargate. Not wanting to make a scene for all of the control room to hear, the physicist said simply, "You're late," as Sheppard, Ronon and Teyla walked past him and stopped in front of Dr. Elizabeth Weir.

"Yes, you are," Elizabeth said sternly. "Debrief. Upstairs. Now," she instructed, a cursory inspection of the team telling her that no one required immediate attention from Atlantis' chief medical officer, though Carson Beckett was present, waiting to make sure of that. He joined them on the way to the debriefing.

John knew that Weir had her boxing gloves ready for this dressing down, considering that he would be blamed for leaving Rodney McKay behind for her to deal with. Great. And after this, he'd be getting the same treatment from Beckett. Sheppard was _'really'_ looking forward to that. 'Payback's a bitch' – that was a phrase that Ronon Dex would soon be far more familiar with than the now infamous 'You made that bed'. John would have to stop teaching the former Runner about all of this Earth-based stuff if he was going to have it thrown back at him the way Ronon had done, though giving the guy a good pounding like "Mo"-hammed Ali was a tempting concept.

Rodney walked alongside John as they made their way up the stairs to the briefing room. Sheppard looked over to see that his friend wore a slight flush on his cheeks and seemed to be huffing just a little. He looked back to Beckett who just cocked his head, a grin on his face, as if to say, 'He's all yours'.

"How are you feeling?" John asked. Rodney just looked at him disgustedly and then moved ahead. Beckett caught up to him at the door. He shook his head as Rodney stormed away. "Hey, Doc, how's…" Sheppard started to ask. Carson put his hand up, stopping him in his tracks.

"He's better." The Air Force man and the physician walked slowly to their seats. "I'll need your help, though, to keep him off duty a while longer."

"Is that my punishment?" John asked smartly.

"Call it what you will," Carson sniped back.

"What happened?" Elizabeth asked, starting the debriefing without fanfare.

"You'll be happy to know that we're still on good terms with the Morlani," John began.

"Praise the okra gods," McKay said.

"You know, Rodney, despite what you think, not everything is about you," John replied testily.

"Did I say…" Rodney started, and then asked, "Where did that come from?"

"I'm just saying that some of us like to eat our vegetables. Man cannot live on MREs, Power Bars and Mars bars alone."

"I don't believe that I ever said anything to the contrary. Did I say 'Let's not deal with these people'? I wish I had, but I didn't. And why are you attacking me anyway? You are the ones who have some explaining to do." Rodney was clearly out of breath from the diatribe. John knew that Rodney was holding back, too, that he had not been able to show or tell him how he'd felt over the course of the last eighteen hours that they had been out of contact. Sheppard also knew that this frontal attack on his own part was simply a defense mechanism…as though putting McKay a little off kilter and stoking the fire of their own past due confrontation was going to result in anything positive.

"Hey," Sheppard said, worried enough about the deep breathing from Rodney to look over to Carson with concern. "I'm sorry. You're right," he conceded.

"Yes, he is, Colonel," Elizabeth agreed. Carson poured a glass of water for McKay and spoke to him quietly in a soothing whisper. "John, please tell us what happened," Elizabeth directed.

"It was all a big misunderstanding, really." Sheppard proceeded to tell the sad tale of Ronon and Tursi's ugly wife, their imprisonment and their final salvation at the hands of Ronon Dex, Song and Dance Man.

Weir, Beckett, and especially McKay, looked at them in stunned silence.

"Wait a minute." Rodney was the first to speak, as expected. "You were out of contact and missed your check in because Ronon wouldn't do a soft shoe and a little singing for the main guy's wife?"

"And a kiss," Ronon defended.

"She was really ugly, McKay," John joined his team member in weak justification.

"Colonel!" Teyla admonished, out loud this time, with evident disappointment in her team leader.

"Whatever!" Rodney shouted. He frowned and then took a calming breath, realizing at that second that none in the room could possibly have forgotten about what calamity he had wrought on Doranda. He waved his hand, shook his head and sat back in his chair.

Sheppard didn't like McKay's quick retreat. He hoped that Elizabeth would wrap this up soon and save the duly earned reprimand for him and his team for later; he wanted Rodney alone…private time was the order of importance now, time that the scientist so obviously needed and that John desperately wanted.

"You're sure the treaty is still good?" Elizabeth asked, ignoring the last exchange within her premiere off-world team.

"Yes, Dr. Weir," Teyla said, still looking with disillusion at Sheppard. She turned to the civilian leader of the expedition. "Though the Morlani say that Ronon has satisfied his debt, I do recommend that he not return to their world."

"Works for me," Ronon mumbled.

"And the okra flowed once more," Rodney offered tiredly. "Are we done?"

"We're done for now. Colonel, I want your team to head for post-mission exams and I want to see both you and Ronon in my office first thing in the morning. Mission report sooner rather than later. Let's make this one the most complete that you've done?" She aimed the more-order-than-question directly at Sheppard.

**_ROUND FIVE … TO ELIZABETH WEIR_**

****

_**ROUND SIX**_

"You're really feeling better?" John asked as they entered Rodney's quarters. As best they knew, their new 'enhanced' relationship was not known to anyone other than their teammates and Carson Beckett. The talk went on, as it had since they'd first arrived in the Pegasus galaxy. They found the cover of the chatter helped to keep their secret. They wanted to share quarters, to share their lives more openly, but until that time came they needed to keep separate quarters and perpetuate the notion that they maintained separate lives.

"Yes." The terse answer told Sheppard more than McKay realized.

"Carson wants you off duty for a few more days."

"Yes, and I would like my long overdue Nobel Prize. To quote The Rolling Stones, 'We can't always get what we want'."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"It doesn't mean anything, John," Rodney said as he headed to the bathroom.

Sheppard caught his lover's arm and felt the trembling immediately.

"Rodney?" he asked, pulling the man in for a hug. "What's wrong?"

McKay pulled away. "How can you ask me that? We hadn't heard from you. You missed your check-in."

"But we're fine."

Rodney stalked to the other side of the room. "But we're fine?" he mimicked. "I cannot believe you. You all think that I'm the selfish one. Imagine what it was like for me…for us on this side of the gate, John. You come back with this oh-so-amusing story to tell. It was not fun on this side. Not. Fun," Rodney added, poking Sheppard in the chest the same way Sheppard had poked Ronon hours before.

John watched as Rodney finally sat heavily on the bed. He was still shaking, the anger and the stress all clearly catching up with him. Sheppard sat beside his distraught friend.

"You're shaking," John offered lamely.

"I noticed. I think it might be shock."

"Seriously?"

"Yes, I'm serious." Rodney faced straight ahead, seeming to purposely not look at John. "I don't know. I don't practice voodoo medicine. I'm tired and feeling kind of cold." He looked at John sadly. "Those are symptoms of shock, right?"

"A couple, yeah. Do you need Carson?" Sheppard asked.

"No. I need you," Rodney answered.

"You got me," John said as he gathered Rodney into a tight embrace. They sat on the bed a long while, the still-recovering man seeking warmth and the colonel providing it as best he could. It wasn't just warmth that McKay was seeking, John knew. The desperate way that Rodney's hands grasped at his body and fisted into his clothes, touching, seeking as though the truth of John's existence would disappear without that touch: this was what McKay had meant about being on this side of the gate. Their story upon their return might have come off light-hearted and funny, but John now knew, he now understood from Rodney's intense reaction that this was no joke.

McKay's hold was now tight and unforgiving. "Rodney," John said softly. "Let's go to bed."

The physicist sighed and said into Sheppard's neck, "I like this." It was a little slurred, and followed shortly by, "Feels good."

John squeezed back hard and said, "It'll feel better in bed, under covers. You'll warm up quicker that way."

"Feelin' warmer now," Rodney replied, not making any move to change positions.

"How about we move because my back is feeling the strain?" Sheppard asked hopefully into Rodney's ear. Rodney could only be closer to John at this point if he crawled inside the man. That was metaphorically inside, not, well, the other.

"Okay."

Within minutes they were under the covers lying on their sides and facing each other. They were both dressed in boxers and t-shirts; Rodney was still too cold and far too tired for sex. And John knew that sex was not what his scientist needed. At this particular moment, it was the last thing he needed. Reassurance, comfort, love – those were what Rodney needed to feel now.

"I'm sorry," John said as he looked to the man he loved. All he could see was the hairline of his lover. 'You'd think the Ancients would have something around to help with that', he thought to himself with a grin. Rodney seemed mesmerized by Sheppard's dog tags for some reason. The colonel waited patiently until McKay raised his head and looked him in the eyes.

"Yes, you are," he grinned sweetly.

John snickered. "Um, that's not exactly the reaction I was hoping for."

"I don't care," Rodney answered as he slipped further under the covers and forced his head under John's neck. Sheppard could feel McKay's warm breath through his shirt, right over his heart. He wished he could keep Rodney there forever. "I'm mad at you."

Yep. John could feel the love. Those simple words, though by no means a low blow – how could they be when they were said from the heart – packed quite a wallop. Sheppard nodded his head lightly in acceptance of McKay's anger. His chin came to rest on Rodney's soft hair. "Anything I can do to make it up to you?" he finally asked.

Rodney took a deep breath and said, "Already doin' it." The breaths turned calm and even quickly; McKay's battles with Beckett and Elizabeth, and worries over his team, and especially over John, had worn him down. His lover wasn't in shape to finish this fight, but John knew it wouldn't be long before they all were getting into the ring with a healthy and far-too-brilliant-and-brave for his own good - a dangerous combination in the Pegasus galaxy - Rodney McKay once again.

Sheppard would need to place his order soon with Caldwell for more body armor.

_**ROUND SIX AND MATCH … A DRAW**_

The End.


End file.
